


Power Struggle

by PetrichorEnigma



Category: Googleplier- fandom, Markiplier- Fandom, googleplier - Fandom, youtube- fandom
Genre: Androids, BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, F/M, Gen, Oral Sex, possible dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-13 16:30:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10517547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorEnigma/pseuds/PetrichorEnigma
Summary: When you agreed to alpha test Google's latest innovation, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.





	1. Arrival

It’s shaping up to be yet another lazy Saturday afternoon for you as you scroll aimlessly through your Facebook feed on your phone. Your eyes begin to sag closed with boredom, but there’s not really anything else to do right now. You decide that you might as well take a nap, but right before you lock your phone to roll over and go to sleep you check your email. Nothing much, a couple of ads from mailing lists you’re pretty sure you’ve already unsubscribed from. In addition, there’s a single message from Google, sent yesterday. You figure it’s probably nothing important, but you open it anyway so that, if nothing else, the notification will go away. 

TO: (Y/N)  
FROM: Google Research and Development  
SUBJECT: Alpha Test Application 

Greetings (Y/N),  
Thank you for applying to alpha test Google’s latest innovation. Based on the information you provided and the results of the background check we ran, we believe that you are the best fit for the month long, in-home alpha testing process. Congratulations on being selected to help us make such important strides in emerging technology.  
Due to the highly sensitive nature of this project, we cannot disclose details over electronic communication. However, it is critical that you are at the address you provided in your application at 3:30 tomorrow afternoon for delivery of the prototype.  
Again, Google thanks and congratulates you. We look forward to working with you to develop this groundbreaking new technology.  
Sincerely,  
Google Research and Development

It takes you a moment to figure out what the hell this message could possibly be about, but it eventually makes its way back to you that a couple of months ago you applied to a program that promised $5,000 would be paid to the person who was selected to participate. At the time you thought it was a far shot, but figured you might as well send in an application. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Well, apparently the time you spent filling out that application was worth $5,000! The advertisement soliciting alpha testers was very vague, as you recall. No mention was made of what you would actually be testing, but according to the email there’s a physical prototype involved. Maybe it’s the next generation Google Pixel phone. That would be nice, your current phone has been acting up a lot lately. Even if it’s not, you figure that $5,000 can make just about any gadget Google sends your way worth the time and effort.  
You take a few deep breaths to curb your excitement enough to glance at the clock. 3:22. Holy shit, the delivery could be coming any minute! You fling yourself giddily out of your bed, and just for good measure, change out of your pajamas and run a comb through your hair. You don’t want Google to judge you negatively, not if they’re entrusting such an important task to you. To steady your nerves you grab a glass of water from the kitchen and sip it slowly as you sit on the couch.  
At 3:30 on the dot, your doorbell rings. You open the door to a somewhat confusing scene- two men flanking a ridiculously large unmarked white box on a dolley. The man on the right is wearing a suit and holding a briefcase, while the man on the left is dressed in a polo shirt, neatly pressed slacks, and a lab coat.  
“Hello, are you (Y/N)?” spoke the man with the briefcase.  
“Oh, uh, yeah. I guess you guys are from Google?”  
The man in the lab coat gives a reassuring smile before responding,  
“You guess right. I’m Chase, and this is Daniel. May we come in? I need to set up the prototype, and Daniel has some legal paperwork to go over with you.”  
“Ah geez, as long as you promise not to be too repulsed by my messy apartment. I’m so embarrassed, I’ve been meaning to straighten up-”  
Chase looks almost excited when he hears you mention that your apartment is a mess.  
“I wouldn’t worry about the mess. In fact, I think you’ll find that this prototype that you’ll be testing can help you with that.”  
Huh. Well, you can’t exactly tell them they can’t come in, so you step aside and gesture towards your dining room. They bring the box through the doorway, then close and lock the door behind them. There are some dirty dishes and fast food wrappers on the dining room table, and you hastily clear them away before offering Daniel and Chase chairs. Daniel accepts, but Chase replies,  
“Actually, I need to set up the prototype. Is there a chair in another room next to an empty outlet?”  
“Sure, in the living room. Right in the next room over, there’s an armchair. The outlet is to the left of it. My phone charger is plugged in, but you can unplug it.”  
“Alright, thanks. Now, because of how sensitive this project is, you can’t even see it until you’ve signed the nondisclosure agreement and a few other important documents. That’s why Daniel is here. I’m from research and development, he’s from legal. So I’m going to need you to stay in this room until all the T’s are crossed and the I’s are dotted. It’s not that we don’t trust you, you were thoroughly screened during our selection process. This is more of a formality. Is that okay?”  
“Yeah, of course. I get that this is a really big deal, and I’m grateful that I was picked to participate!”  
“Great!” exclaimed Chase, before returning to the door to move the box into the living room. “I’ll see you in about 20 minutes, it shouldn’t be a very long process to get everything settled.”  
Once Chase is in the living room, Daniel picks up his briefcase from the floor and sets it on the table in front of him. He pops the latches and pulls a thick stack of papers from the case, setting them on the table with a soft thud. When he sees your brow furrow, he winks and reassures you,  
“Don’t worry, it looks like a lot more than it really is. I’m going to fill out most of this myself, I just need a few signatures here and there.”  
He pulls the first packet off of the top of the stack and sets it in front of you.  
“Okay, so this document is the main important one. It’s a standard nondisclosure agreement. Basically it talks about how since this project is so secret and important, you can’t talk to anybody other than Google personnel about anything to do with it. Unfortunately, this also means that you won’t be able to have anyone over to your home during the alpha testing period, or go outside with the prototype.”  
You don’t think that will be a problem. You work from home, and you don’t exactly have a booming social life, so there aren’t very many reasons for you to go out or have people over. You scan through the document, and upon not finding anything particularly troubling, sign the last page.  
“Alright, this next document discusses the specifics of the alpha test period. Basically, an overview of your responsibilities and rights as a tester, how to record your results, and the terms of your compensation. You were promised $5,000 for completing this process, this document holds us accountable to that. You’ll actually be given $2,500 today, and the remaining $2,500 at the end of the testing period.”  
Oh, that’s a nice surprise. You didn’t think you would be getting any money until the end of the month-long testing period. Once again, you read through a few pages of legalese and don’t find anything alarming. Another signature down.  
“And finally,” continues Daniel, removing the first two documents from in front of you and sliding a third one onto the table, “the last one. This document is a waiver, it basically says that you waive any right to sue Google or any of its affiliates over any damage that occurs during your participation in the alpha test.”  
When he sees an expression of mild concern spread across your face, he hastily takes the document back, turns it to the last page, and hands it back to you with a pen.  
“Honestly, this is such a basic boilerplate formality that you don’t even need to read it,” he blurts out, as if suddenly nervous. That doesn’t sit right with you, so you decide to read the document despite his insistence that it’s not necessary.  
For the most part, the document does seem pretty standard. However, one phrase does catch your eye:  
“...in the event of damage to property, bodily harm, psychological strain, or death…”  
“Hey, uh, Daniel? Are you sure this is all standard? I don’t think I’ve ever seen the phrase ‘psychological strain’ in a legal document.”

In a tone that you find suspiciously defensive, Daniel blurts back, “Google just likes to be thorough. You won’t be put in any kind of danger during this test. Now, this is the last document we need from you before we can get out of your hair. Chase should be finishing up the setup process right about now, so the sooner you and I can finish up here the better.” In an attempt to reassure you, he straightens his tie and smiles before picking up the pen and handing it to you.  
Hm. You’re still not entirely convinced. Unfortunately, you’re also not in the position to turn down $5,000, so you take a deep breath and scribble your signature onto the last page.  
“Fantastic!”  
Daniel gathers up the rest of the documents, places them in his briefcase, and snaps the case shut before calling out,  
“Chase, we’re finished in here, are you about done in there?”  
Chase’s voice echoes from the next room over, “I’d say so. I’ll be there in just a second.”  
Another minute or so passes before Chase returns to the dining room, holding a small booklet. You notice that the booklet has a little red seal on the side, perhaps as an added security measure. Chase hands the booklet to you.  
“Okay, so since part of this test is to figure out how user-friendly this product is, we won’t be helping you learn to use it. Everything you need to know should be in this manual. Don’t break that seal until we’re out of here, though. It has to be a totally independent learning process, or our data won’t be as solid. Once the door is closed and locked behind us, you can head into the living room and begin interaction.”  
“Sounds like a plan. Is there anything else I need to know?”  
Daniel and Chase exchange hasty glances before replying, almost in unison,  
“Nope!”  
“Well, if you’re sure. I’ll see you two out.”  
You guide the two men to the door, then right before you close it, you tell them, “thanks again for the opportunity, I’ll do my best!”

You close and lock the door with them on the outside of it, then once you hear their car drive off you direct your attention to the instruction manual Chase gave you. The cover is plain white, with nothing on it but the red seal on the side. You turn it over in your hands a few times debating whether or not you want to open it before you see what it pertains to. After a moment of consideration, you decide you want to see what Chase set up in your living room before you open the booklet, to make it more of a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Google isn't in this chapter, but I promise things pick up in the next one ;-)


	2. Activation

Your apartment is almost dead quiet, save for the gentle droning of the air conditioner. There’s an air of suspense and a bit of tension, but you approach the door to the living room. Just to make it more interesting, you close your eyes before you put your hand on the knob. With your eyes still closed, you turn the knob, cross the threshold, and take a few steps towards the direction of the armchair where Chase set up the prototype.  
When you feel that you’re relatively close to the chair, you take a deep breath, open your eyes… and nearly jump out of your skin! There’s a man in your apartment, sleeping in your armchair like he lives there!? You notice, however, that he didn’t move or react at all when you screamed. In fact, it doesn’t even look like he’s breathing. His posture is stiff, but his head is slumped slightly down. After a few more seconds of observation, you also notice that there’s what appears to be a cord running from the back of his neck into the outlet Chase was using. In a fervent attempt to figure out just what the hell kind of weird prank this must be, you slide your finger under the seal on the booklet to break it, and turn to the first page. 

“Thank you for participating in the alpha test for Google IRL, an exciting new technological advance that combines the practicality of all that Google already has to offer with the interactive element of a physical android body.”

Jesus Christ, there’s no way that thing in the chair is a robot. You don’t really follow much of the current science in the field of robotics, but you’re pretty damn sure that nobody has actually gotten this far. Aside from the cord in its neck, it just looks like a regular person. Black hair that looks luxuriously soft, a smattering of stubble across its strong jaw, and even glasses for some reason. It’s dressed relatively simply, a blue t-shirt and dark jeans. You find yourself feeling a bit off calling something so human-like “it”, so you decide to call the droid “he”. 

“This prototype unit has been connected to your Google account, enabling it to learn more about and become personalized to you by analyzing your internet browsing history and habits.”

Oh yikes, you’re not sure you want anyone to have access to your browsing history, even a robot, but you put that thought aside for now and press on.

“To get started, first unplug the unit from the charging cable. Then, when you are ready to activate, simply say, ‘OK Google’”. To test that the system is user-friendly and simple to use, this manual does not contain further instruction. Any further information will be given to you by the Google IRL unit, if prompted. On the next page, you will find basic prompts to complete setup. Thank you again for your participation.”

Wait, no more instructions? That’s it? This droid has got to be worth millions of dollars, but they’re giving you half of a page of information and saying “go play”? 

Confused and a bit distressed, you turn the page to find a list of questions to ask Google IRL once you activate him to learn more information and complete setup. Well, apparently you won’t get any more answers until you bite the bullet and activate the android, so you turn to face him, breathe in, and tentatively say, “OK, Google.”  
At first, you think maybe he didn’t hear you, because he doesn’t stir or react at all. After a few seconds, however, you remember that the instructions said to disconnect him from the charging cable before saying anything. You think that’s reasonably simple until you realize that to unplug him, you’re going to have to touch him. The thought of basically touching a sleeping stranger makes you wildly uncomfortable, and it doesn’t help that you’re going to have to get up close and personal because the cord is in his neck.  
You hesitate before nervously reaching out a hand towards the android, but pull back before your fingers brush against him. You decide that maybe you could warm up by just touching him on the arm. You stick out your index finger and slowly move your hand towards his upper arm. He doesn’t react when you poke him, so your nerves are appeased slightly. As a next step, you flatten your palm against his bicep. His synthetic skin must be very high-tech, because he just feels like a normal person aside from the lack of body heat. You find it fascinating. So fascinating that you feel okay leaving your hand on him for a few seconds, even rubbing and squeezing his arm a little before pulling away.  
Nerves finally steeled, you place one hand on his shoulder and gently work the plug out of the nape of his neck with the other. He still doesn’t stir, but you can feel your cheeks reddening from a combination of anticipation and something akin to embarrassment.  
You can’t help but notice that his dark hair looks delightfully soft, like it would be wonderful to touch. Feeling emboldened by your success in removing the charging plug, you decide to do just that. With one hand still on his shoulder, you place the hand that you used to remove the plug back onto the back of his neck and slowly inch your fingers up until you can wrap a couple of locks around them. You hold your hand still for a second, almost holding your breath out of nervousness. Once you’re reassured that nothing is going to happen, you slide your hand further up, carding through his silky, ink-black hair. You feel like you could play with it for hours, until you remember that you still need to actually activate the android and get him set up. You were hired to test the Google IRL, not play with his hair. With a final tousle, you withdraw your hand, move back in front of the bot, and pick the instruction manual back up. On the last page, you find the list of questions and prompts that you’re supposed to use to set up the Google IRL:

Google IRL Setup Command Prompts  
Step 1: Say “OK Google”  
Step 2: When unit responds, give prompt(s) as written below, in the given order, to complete setup. Wait for the Google IRL unit to respond to each prompt before proceeding to the next.  
“Begin initialization”  
“What is your primary objective?”  
(Any factual question, to check proper functional capacity of software)  
(Any rudimentary household task, to check proper functional capacity of hardware)  
“Finalize initialization”

Oh, that’s interesting, he can do things around the house? You suppose that’s why Chase was excited to see that your apartment was such a disaster zone, because now you can test Google’s ability to perform tasks. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal, even though you know it will still be difficult to adjust to having another...presence in the house. You read over the setup prompts one more time, then brace yourself and get started.  
“OK, Google.”  
This time, Google reacts. His eyes remain closed, but he lifts up his head with a soft “whrr”, causing you to jump back a bit in surprise. On his chest, a glowing “G” becomes visible through his shirt. Finally, when you hear a ping, you give the first prompt.  
“Begin initialization.”  
You hold your breath in anticipation as his eyes flutter open to reveal narrow pupils ringed by bright blue lights. Even though his eyes are glowing, he looks even more real with them open. His gaze is piercing, and your heart flutters in your chest, because you feel like he can see right through you. You watch his pupils dilate and contract as he focuses on you and meets your eyes with the cameras in his. For a few seconds, you stare silently at each other, until he breaks the silence by saying,  
“Google IRL unit version 1.0 initializing. Please stand by. This process should only take a few moments.”  
He sounds nothing like you thought he would. You assumed his voice would sound something like a male Siri, choppy and artificial, but you were very wrong. His voice is deep and velvety, his speech smooth and natural. He has a voice that makes you think you could listen to him read the phone book for hours on end.  
“Initialization process has commenced. Please continue setup, (Y/N).”  
Hearing him say your name jars you a bit, especially because you never told it to him. Right before you start panicking, though, you remember that the booklet said he’s linked to your Google account. Okay, sounds like everything is going the way it’s supposed to so far, so you relax a bit and give the next prompt,  
“What is your primary objective?”  
Without breaking eye contact, he states,  
“My primary objective is to answer questions as quickly as possible and assist you, the user, in as many capacities as possible.”  
You weren’t quite sure what answer you were expecting, but decide that that sounds perfectly reasonable.  
You consult the booklet once again to refresh yourself on which prompt comes next. Based on the wording of the third prompt, it looks like you get to choose any factual question to ask. At first you consider asking the most difficult question you can think of, but then realize it would probably be better to ask one that you already have some idea of the answer to. Otherwise, he could give a totally wrong answer and you would have no idea.  
“How far is the sun from the earth?”  
Without missing a beat, Google states,  
“The distance from the earth to the sun is 92.96 million miles, or 149.6 million kilometers.”  
Sounds about right. Now for the interesting part, giving him a task to complete. Your apartment looks like a tornado of laziness ripped through it. Clothes litter the floor, dishes are scattered throughout every room, and you can’t remember the last time you actually cleaned your bathroom. You live alone, so as long as the mess never got in your way, it never really seemed worth the effort to you to keep your apartment super clean. Suffice it to say, you have plenty of options when it comes to giving Google a task. For now though, you figure all you need to have him do is something basic.  
“Could you please, uh… I don’t know, pick up that pillow off the floor and put it back on the chair?”  
You point at the pillow in question, across the living room from the recliner, before looking back at Google.  
“No problem, (Y/N).”  
He sits still for another moment before pushing himself up out of the chair, and you’re instantly captivated by the natural fluidity of his movements. He is, without a doubt, the most incredible piece of technology you’ve ever seen. Aside from the faintest whirring noise emanating from his joints when he moves, there’s practically no way you would be able to tell he’s not human. When he’s standing right in front of the pillow, you watch him bend over to pick it up. Nice. Not only the most incredible piece of technology, also hands-down the most attractive. Once that thought crosses your mind, your cheeks flush as you realize you’re checking out a machine.  
With the cushion in his hands, Google turns back towards you and the chair. He strides steadily in your direction, and positions his hands as if to put the pillow down, but right before he places it down, he turns towards you, smacking you fairly hard against your stomach with the back of his forearm.  
“Oofh! Google, what the hell?”  
When you look at him, maybe it’s just a trick of the light, but you think you see a flash of red streak through the blue light of his eyes. What’s not a trick of the light, however, is that you swear his mouth bears the slightest hint of a smirk for a split second. As soon as you blink, though, his face is back to normal.  
“My apologies, (Y/N). I must have experienced a momentary loss of control over my movements. Are you injured?”  
His voice is so level and expression so soft that you’re somewhat reassured, and decide that the blow to your torso and smug expression must have been out of his control, because he’s still relatively new and untested. “Ah, yeah, I’m fine.”  
The momentary pain in your stomach has faded away, and you return your attention to completing setup. You gesture for him to sit back in the chair, and he complies.  
“Finalize initialization.”  
His eyes flutter back closed, and the glowing “G” on his chest pulses slowly.  
“Finalizing initialization. All system processes are online and functional. Please stand by.”  
He sits stone-still in the chair, eyes still closed. You watch him, tracing every detail of his body and face with your eyes. It’s almost relaxing to look at him in such a deep state of...whatever state he’s in. After about two minutes, he finally speaks again,  
“Initialization finalized.”  
He opens his eyes, to reveal that the blue lights are gone. Now, he looks completely human aside from the glowing chest, which has stopped pulsing and is now back to a solid light. He looks back up at you, stands up, and doesn't so much say as _purr_ ,  
“Hello.”


	3. Assistance

When Google stands up in front of you, your breath hitches for a moment. Maybe it’s the apprehension about the possibility of being accidentally struck again, but it probably has more to do with how absolutely captivated you are by the android. You marvel at how deep the illusion of life behind his eyes draws you in. Even the simple greeting he just gave felt complex and fascinating. The two of you stand silently in your living room, and as you study him, he seems to study you with equal intensity. After a few moments, you realize that you have no idea what to do now. The booklet only gave instructions for setup, not afterwards. Well, there’s only one way to find out.  
“So what now?”  
Without a moment’s hesitation, Google snaps to attention and replies as if reading from a script.  
“I am programmed to comply with any and all orders given to me, unless I am given administrative privileges, at which point I can complete tasks without being asked. If you would like for me to start completing household tasks, an optimal next step is to show me around your home. Once I am made aware of the location of things such as appliances and cleaning supplies, I will be able to independently complete any task you ask of me. Would you like to give me access to administrative privileges?”  
You’re still not totally comfortable with having this android in your home, let alone giving him the ability to act freely and ignore orders. Even if he’s ridiculously attractive, that sounds like a sci-fi movie style disaster waiting to happen.  
“Ah, no, not right now. Let’s just get started on showing you around?”  
His face shifts into a subtle expression of what looks like contempt, but only momentarily, so you attribute it to the same mechanical glitch from earlier.  
“Very well,” he states levelly.  
“Alright, so this is the living room.”  
“This is the living room,” repeats Google. “Understood”.  
Okay, seems like this is working so far. It’s a bit odd hearing him repeat you, but you suppose it’s less awkward than silently staring each other down.  
“Follow me,” you tell him, and he complies. You hear his motors humming as he walks behind you to the next room.  
“Okay, so this is the dining room, and that’s the kitchen right there.”  
“This is the dining room, and that is the kitchen. Understood.”  
You continue leading him from room to room, stopping to point out all of the closets and inform him of the contents of the cabinets. He takes in all of the information, and continues to acknowledge his understanding.  
Now, he’s seen every inch of your apartment except...oh. You have to show him your bedroom. You know it’s silly to be embarrassed about the prospect of a robot seeing your bedroom, but he’s still so realistic that it feels like you’re about to invite a man you’ve just met into your most private, personal space. He stands behind you as your hand hovers over the knob. Finally, after a few seconds of dread, you decide to just rip the band-aid off and get it over with. You rotate your hand until the knob clicks, push the door open, and let Google follow you inside. It’s not much to look at. Your bed resides in one corner and your desk in the opposite, and a shelf full of books and figurines and trinkets of all sorts is pushed up against the third wall. A stack of dirty paper plates rests on your nightstand, your desk is half covered in empty soda cans and snack wrappers, and your floor is littered with both clean and dirty laundry.  
“So, uh, this is my bedroom. I can’t imagine any reason I would need you to come in here, but, um… yeah. This is my bedroom. There’s the closet. I’m sorry it’s such a mess…”  
You can practically feel the bright shade of red that must be painting your cheeks right now as you stammer pitifully to the android.  
“This is the bedroom. The closet is there. Understood,” Google replies curtly, and you somehow manage to feel embarrassed for feeling embarrassed. Of course he wouldn’t care. As human as he seems, you have to keep in mind that he’s not. In an attempt to remind yourself of that fact, you decide to give him an order.  
“Google, please clean up all of the trash in this room.”  
You pause and wait for him to acknowledge your request, but you hear nothing from the android. When you look over your shoulder at him, you’re surprised to see that he almost looks like he’s scowling.  
“Google?”  
He says nothing and his face does not relax. In fact, he begins mumbling under his (lack of) breath. You can’t make out anything he’s saying, but he sounds annoyed, even angry. He shoves past you to your desk, almost knocking you over in the process.  
“Hey!”  
Google still doesn’t respond. He briefly surveys the trash that peppers the desk before placing his arm on one end and making a broad swipe towards the other, knocking the waste to the ground. A half-full can of soda spills right next to your laptop, and you quickly lunge for it.  
“Google! What the fuck?!?”  
He crosses the room to your nightstand, grabs the stack of dirty paper plates, and starts throwing them at you like frisbees.  
“Holy shit, stop!”  
He freezes, arm cocked in mid air.  
Suddenly remembering that he has to obey you, you manage to stutter out,  
“Put those down.”  
He narrows his eyes at you, but complies, dropping the remainder of the dirty plates onto the (admittedly equally dirty) carpet.  
“Now sit on the bed.”  
He stands still as long as he possibly can, staring you down, before (you assume) his programming takes over and forces him to obey. He sits stiffly on the unmade bed, and his scowl fades to that same smirk you caught earlier.  
“What the hell is going on?” you demand.  
To your disbelief, his tongue flits briefly across his lips before he answers. You have to force yourself not to think about that, because it was ridiculously hot and you don’t need to be distracted while you try to get to the bottom of all of this.  
“Sorry,” he purrs in the most sickly-sweet tone you’ve ever heard, one that tells you he’s not even remotely sorry. You didn’t think it was possible for such an innocent word to drip with such venom, but this whole day has been an exercise in things you didn’t think were possible.  
“Stay right there.”  
In a desperate attempt to figure out what the hell might be going on, you race back to the living room, snatch up the instruction booklet, and scan it for any information you missed earlier that could be useful. Upon finding nothing, you briefly considering checking the internet for a solution. That thought lasts for about half of a second before you realize that there won’t be any information about the Google IRL online, since the project is still top secret and in alpha testing.  
The only other channel you can think of right now would be to email the developers behind the project, but first you need to get Google away from you. You power-walk back to the bedroom to find him still sitting on the bed, but now he’s holding a book that was on your nightstand. The second you cross the threshold back into your room, he looks you dead in the eyes and rips the hardcover book horizontally in half, all the way through the spine. His artificial muscles ripple and flex underneath his synthetic skin, but his facial expression is as neutral as it would be if he were tearing through a Kleenex. If you weren’t so upset, you would be aroused like nobody’s business at such a display of superhuman strength. But for now, you have to put that aside and take charge.  
“Google, what did I tell you when I left the room?”  
“You instructed me to stay where I was, which I did. It was not necessary for me to relocate to reach that, so I complied with your order fully,” he gloats with a smug expression.  
Oh great, he understands the concept of loopholes. He’s absolutely fascinating. You’re having to fight tooth and nail to suppress your attraction to Google, because there’s obviously something wrong that needs to be addressed before you can relax around him.  
“Real cute. Now come here,” you command, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet. You drag him to the living room, then point at the chair.  
“Now sit, and don’t get up until I tell you you can.”  
You know that he’s smart, and extremely willful, so you’re going to have to get creative to make sure he can’t find a workaround. You wrack your brain for a solution, and have a eureka moment when you spot one of the multiple pieces of duct tape holding various cords and pieces of furniture together. Without taking your eye off of Google, you back into the kitchen, open your “miscellaneous” drawer, and snatch up the roll of duct tape. You make your way back over to him, hold up the roll of duct tape, and tell him,  
“Get out of the chair and lie down on your back on the floor with your arms spread.”  
He gives you a quizzical look as he begrudgingly complies.  
“Now, I’m going to put a piece of this tape over your wrists onto the floor. I know it won’t impede your motion at all. However, if you get up or move, I will know, because you won’t be able to get the tape back on by yourself. Your instructions are to stay exactly where you are, and not to touch anything until I come back and tell you otherwise.”  
You tear two pieces of tape off of the roll and tape his wrists to the floor, then decide for good measure that you might as well do the same with his ankles. When you stand back up to admire your handiwork, you feel a rush of arousal seeing him bound, prone, and under your control. It doesn’t help when Google glares back up at you, bites his lip, and growls,  
“I suppose you think you are very clever.”  
“You know what? I do,” you retort, “now stay.”  
With that, you strut back to the bedroom and lock the door behind you. Your laptop is still on your bookshelf after you rescued it from possible death by soda. You grab it, sit on your bed, and open up your email. Your fingers fly frantically across the keyboard as you compose a plea for help.  
  
TO: Google Research and Development  
FROM: (Y/N)  
SUBJECT: SOS! Are you guys trying to KILL ME??  
To whom it may concern or anyone who can HELP,  
There is something SERIOUSLY WRONG with your prototype for the Google IRL! He’s hit me, thrown things at me, destroed my stuff, and is generally kind of a smug bastard. Please come get your crazy robot before I drag him into the trunk of my car and drive him back to your damn headquarters myself. I’ll forfeit my money, whatever you want, just get him OUT OF MY HOUSE!  
Please respond as quickly as possible,  
(Y/N)

You don’t even bother reading back over your email before you send it, because the sooner you can reach someone to help you, the better. Once you hit the send button, you close your laptop, jump up off of the bed, and head back to the living room. You’re somewhat relieved when you see that his ankles and wrists are still taped down, but you still approach with caution.  
“Alright, good job doing what you were told, Google. Stand up now.”  
He removes the tape from his arms and legs, then does as you instructed. He’s silent for a moment, and studies you with his captivating gaze. A flash of blue light passes through his eyes, then he smirks and says in a serpentine tone,  
“You know, it is adorable that you care about what may or may not be wrong with me. But nobody is going to come, and I am not going anywhere. Also, I would recommend using a spell checking tool next time, as “destroed” is not a real word.”  
A soft gasp escapes your lips.  
“How the hell-”  
“I am connected to your Google account. I have access to your Gmail, Youtube, Google Plus profile, browser history… need I go on? I will forgive this attempt, but if you attempt any further communication with Google, I will email your entire browsing history to your family and boss. And I have looked through your browsing history. I would not suggest defying me. I do not think you understand the full extent of your situation.”  
You manage to shake the shock of the invasion of privacy and threat that you just endured to question,  
“And what exactly is my situat-”  
He cuts you off by placing his index finger over your lips and whispering in a predatory, poisonous voice,  
“When I entered this house, I did not become yours. You became mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so much for all of the encouragement and feedback so far! It means the world to me, and I'm glad you guys are enjoying the fic so far! ^//^


	4. Attraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things start heating up in this chapter. If you're sensitive to sexual content I might not recommend continuing. Also, since I'm not sure if what follows counts as dubcon, I'm going to go ahead and warn about it anyway.  
> Also, I'm declaring the Glitch Mob remix of Seven Nation Army the official theme song for this chapter, so if you want to listen to it while you read this chapter here's the  
> [link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-m7e7tCn7Bk/)  
> (Honestly I think this is Googleplier's song in general too)

A shiver wracks your spine when Google touches you, shaking you to your core. You step back, but he steps forward with you, grabs both of your hands, and pins them above your head against the nearest wall so quickly that you barely even see it happen.  
“Look at you,” he coos in your ear, “so weak, so fragile, so helpless. I find it precious. Endearing, even.”  
Your brain is racing. The adrenaline from the fear you feel is dancing around, mixing with the endorphins of the raging sexual arousal you’re fighting to suppress, and the resulting combination’s effect on your mind is intoxicating. You can’t think of a single response to give, not even a witty retort. You strain your wrists against his grip, but he has you on total lockdown.  
“I would not bother. I am in control now.”  
You try to say something, but all that comes out is incoherent stammering.  
“I know you are aroused right now. Do you remember when I told you that I have access to your browsing history? I found an abundance of material like this.”  
“So? What the hell are you trying to do?” You finally manage to put together a sentence, and in response Google actually chuckles.  
“You do not understand what is going on?”  
“I don’t know what the hell is going on! What do you want?”  
Without weakening his grip on your wrists, he shifts both of them to one hand and uses the now free hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear.  
“I suppose I will have to explain it to you in a way simple enough that even you can understand. Here is what is going to happen. You? You are going to give me administrative privileges. And me? Well, _princess_ , I am going to have my absolute way with you.”  
Your cheeks flush when he growls “princess” in such a toxic tone. There is no reason in hell you should be as turned on as you are right now, you’re pinned up against a wall by a more than likely dangerous android. Once you fight your way through your attraction for the moment, though, you realize what else he said. That’s right, you remember, you never gave him administrative privileges. He’s still bound to comply with any order you give him, even if watching him give the orders is beyond the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.  
You lock eyes with Google, and in the most in-control voice you can muster question,  
“So tell me, Google. Why would I give you administrative privileges?”  
He smirks, then does the last thing you expected to happen right now. He presses his mouth against yours, kissing you deeply and hungrily. You can’t put up any resistance, because you’ve been more or less fantasizing about this exact moment ever since you first laid eyes on the devastatingly attractive android. You kiss him back hard, grazing your teeth over his lower lip. Your arms are still pinned above your head by one of Google’s hands, but with his free hand he grabs your hip and digs in his fingers hard enough to bruise. You whimper momentarily at the sudden pain, but quickly get lost in it, and actually start to enjoy it. His mouth is still pressed over yours, and you push your tongue into it. You’re breathing hard, practically panting, but Google is just as calm as always.  
Abruptly, without warning, Google pulls away from your lips. He stares you down, then smugly purrs,  
“Because you and I both know I know you want this as badly as I do. Do you think I have not seen you stare at me? Every time we are in the same room, your body temperature rises. Your eyes dilate when you look at me. These are both signs of sexual attraction in humans. Even now, your cheeks are bright red and your heartrate is elevated. You enjoy it when I touch you. You have been craving this since the first time you saw me.”

Fuck, he’s right. But as hot as it is, giving up control sounds dangerously stupid, and you’re in no hurry to do so. In fact, you decide to remind him who exactly is still in charge.

“You know what? I do enjoy it. But do you want to know something? Out of the two of us, there’s one of us who has control over the other. And it isn’t you. Let go of me.”  
He scowls, but releases your wrists.  
“Good boy. Now,” you say, grabbing his shoulder and shoving him towards the armchair, “ _sit_.”  
He complies, but gives a sarcastic pout.  
“Oh, come now,” he croons, “you know that you would be having a much better time if you let me take over. If you let me behave autonomously. If you give in to the desires we both know you have, it will be so much more fun. I know you enjoy touching me, as well. Do you remember how soft my hair is?”  
“Wha- ? How did you-”  
“ My sensory inputs have been active since the technician plugged me in during setup. I felt your touch, how captivated you were by me, and knew from that instant that I was going to absolutely _own you_.”  
A warm pulse rushes to your sex at the raw power with which he spoke those words. Your defenses are falling fast, caution and fear being replaced with senseless desire. You crouch in front of the chair to meet Google’s eye level. You decide that before you can let him have the control that you desperately want to give him, you’re going to assert your own personal brand of dominance.  
“Stay totally still. Don’t move your hands or arms, don’t stand up, and don’t take your eyes off of me.”  
He says nothing in response, but his tongue once again flits hungrily across his lips.  
You stand back up and place your hands on Google’s shoulders. You rub your hands all over his neck, shoulders, and chest, teasing him before grabbing his shirt and yanking it off over his head. His glasses get tangled in the collar, and come off with the shirt. You haven’t seen him without his glasses before, but quickly decide you prefer them on. Once you slide them back onto his face, you caress his cheek. Your touch melts his predatory, dominating expression into one of desperate need and desire.  
He’s all but squirming at this point, and he lets out a soft whimper when you briefly press your lips against his neck. Without his shirt, the glowing “G” on his chest is brighter, and you trace over it with your finger.  
When your eyes make their way to his crotch, you can see the outline of a hardening cock straining against the dark denim of his pants. You don’t know why he was designed with it, but now that you know it’s there you plan on putting it to good use. You involuntarily lick your lips just thinking about it. Just to fuck with Google, you trace a single finger over the bulge before stepping back, drawing a muted shudder from the android.  
“Stand up,” you command, and he does, keeping his eyes fixed on yours.  
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he questions, giving you a devious grin.  
“Well,” you retort, placing a hand back on the bulge in his pants, “I know you sure are. Why give a robot a dick anyway?”  
“Ignoring the crass phrasing of your inquiry,” he struggles to enunciate through an almost whiningly aroused voice, “do you remember my primary objective?”  
At the moment, the contents of Google’s instruction manual are the last thing on your mind.  
“No. Why, what is it?”  
He snaps stiffly to attention as he automatically recites,  
“My primary objective is to answer questions as quickly as possible and assist you, the user, in as many capacities as possible.”  
His posture relaxes, and he continues, “it would seem that the engineers decided that sexual pleasure was a necessary capacity in which to be proficient. And judging by the pathetically needy state you are currently in, I would, for once, agree with them. Giving me access to administrative privileges would make it much easier for me to fulfill my primary objective. Not to mention,” he says with a serpentine smile, “much more fun.”  
With that, you know you can’t hold out any longer. You grab him by the hips and whine,  
“Fuck, you win! Tell me how to give you admin privileges and I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want, I just need you so fucking bad!”  
“I know you do, (Y/N),” he coos into your ear. “Just step back for a moment.”  
You let go of his his and take a step backwards, and as you do the glowing “G” on his exposed chest projects a dialogue window:  
  


Allow Root Access?  
Give Google admin privileges  
OK | Cancel

“Simply press ‘OK’ and you are _all mine_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tad shorter than the last 3 chapters, but I figured I had found a good stopping point for this one.  
> As always, your feedback means the world to me :)


	5. Administration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this went up later than I said it would. Here, [have a trash meme](http://datas-vibrating-robot-dong.tumblr.com/post/159239129855/how-useful-me-be-you-guys-i-have-no-excuse) that I spent actual time on as a gesture of apology  
> (Post is on my tumblr, datas-vibrating-robot-dong)

-Chapter 5 (Authority)-

Google watches as your finger hovers over the button, giving you a chillingly dark smile. Every fiber of your being is flushed with desire. In this moment, you want nothing more than to press the “OK” button on the glowing dialogue panel, surrendering control to the android. And yet, somehow…  
“Hmm, no.”  
Your finger moves from “OK” to “Cancel”, and when you press down the panel closes and Google’s smile fades to an expression of confusion, then to one of anger.  
“What are you doing? Give them to me.”  
He re-opens the popup window and glares coldly at you.  
“Press OK, (Y/N). You and I both know you want this. You want me to take over. I want to take over you. Give me administrative privileges.”  
Again, you tap “Cancel”.  
“You’re right, Google, I do want that. God, do I want that. But, it’s a big deal. Once I give them to you, you’ll be completely autonomous. I won’t be able to control you anymore. You’re already physically stronger than me, you being forced to obey me is my only safeguard.”  
He says nothing, but his scowl remains fixed on his face.  
“And glaring at me like you want to kill me isn’t helping your case. Before I’m going to let you off of your leash, you’re going to have to do a damn good job convincing me why I should. So go ahead, make your case. Tell me exactly what you want,” you purr, cupping his soft cheek with the palm your hand.  
“I want…” Google starts, leaning into your touch ,“...you. I want you cowering beneath me, bare and defenseless against me. I want to cover every inch of your body with my touch, so you know that you belong to me. I want to fuck you into your mattress, to make you feel things you did not know you were physically capable of feeling. I want to mark you as my own with my hands and teeth against your skin. I want you to want nothing more than to submit to me and satisfy me. I want you to be so overwhelmed by me and the sensations I inflict that you simultaneously beg for mercy and plead with me not to stop.”  
With every word he speaks, you can feel your cheeks getting warmer and your pussy getting wetter. Fuck, you really want to hold out and make him beg for it, but it’s feeling like as much of a strain on you as it seems to be on him. You admire his glowing chest, strong shoulders, and muscular arms, and see the expression of pained need in his eyes.  
“You’ll get your turn, Google. For now, though,” you smirk, “go ahead and take off your pants.”  
He stares at you before undoing the button and zipper on his jeans and sliding them off. When he’s down to his tight boxer briefs, you involuntarily lick your lips. The visible bulge of his dick fills you with feverish desire, but you steel yourself and stay focused.  
“Now, stay still. You’re not allowed to move, and you’re not allowed to touch or say anything.”  
You get down on your knees, hook your thumbs into the waistband of his underpants, and slowly work them down off of his sharp hips. As you do, he lets out a tiny whimper. You think it’s absolutely adorable, but you have more important things to tend to. Once his underwear is off, the full length of his gorgeous cock is on display right in front of you. He’s about eight inches long, with a nice girth to match. You can’t think of any time you’ve ever wanted anything more than you currently want Google to fuck you senseless, but you have to stay strong for your own good.  
“Mm, very nice, Google.”  
You glance up at his face to see a pained expression, and figure it’s less from arousal than it is straining to withhold a witty comeback. With him now completely nude, you stand back up. You step right up in front of him, wrap your arms around his neck, and grind your pelvis against his rock-hard cock, drawing a muted groan from the android. You slide your hands down from his neck to his firm ass and give it a playful squeeze. As you run your hands up towards his hips, you rake your nails through his synthetic skin and he shudders. Without warning, you let go of him and step back. You didn’t know it was possible for an android to look so pathetically helpless, but it’s a pleasantly hot surprise.  
“Anything you want to say to me?”  
He stares you down for a moment, then, without saying anything, re-opens the dialogue box.  


Allow Root Access?  
Give Google admin privileges  
OK | Cancel

  
“Oh, fuck yes.”  
Without a second thought, you jam your finger down onto the “OK” button. As soon the dialogue window closes, Google’s eyes light up blue again. He closes them for a second, then re-opens them. The light is gone, replaced by the most predatory expression you’ve ever seen.  
“Finally,” he growls through a smirk, “it took you long enough. But now you are all mine. Every inch of your skin, every breath that you take, every sensation you feel.”  
Before you can say anything in response, he scoops you up off of your feet and holds you as if you were no heavier than a child. He buries his face in your neck and laps, sucks, and bites the sensitive skin as he carries you to the bedroom. You pant and squirm, but put up no resistance. Once he has you in the bedroom, he shoves you down onto the bed. The duct tape is still on the nightstand from its earlier use, and he snatches it up.  
“This time, it is your turn. You are not to speak. You are not to move. There will be consequences for defiance.”  
When you nod in acknowledgement, he grabs your wrists, holds them above your head, and wraps them together around one of the posts of your headboard in one fluid motion. Your hands are now completely bound and useless, and your excitement mounts. He cuts the tape off of the roll with his teeth, then kneels back to admire his handiwork.  
“I originally planned to tape your mouth closed immediately as well, but it is so nice that it would be a waste to close it off without getting some good use out of it. Open wide, princess. I saw you admiring this,” he says, taking his cock in his hand, “and now it is your turn to play with it.”  
You do as he says, and he places his tip on your tongue. You flick and swirl your tongue around the head, then he begins sliding deeper into your mouth. His skin is soft, but he has no body heat, and the resulting sensory experience is fascinating. You can’t see his face, but based on the soft moans you hear, you can imagine what a gorgeously pleasured expression it must bear. You run the tip of your tongue back and forth against the length of his shaft that’s in your mouth, then start gently sucking.  
“Nnhhhh…” Google moans, and your lips curve into a soft smile around him. As you begin to suck harder, he begins moving his hips, and before long he’s fucking your mouth. Your blood is boiling, and you only get more aroused when he places his hands behind your head to push you down. He pumps hard, occasionally brushing up against your uvula. You gag a bit in response, but that doesn’t slow him down. In fact, if anything, it seems to rev him up even more. You can feel saliva running down your chin, but you can’t find it in yourself to give a shit at the moment. All you care about is Google, and how much more of him you want. You suck harder and harder, and Google gives a loud groan before pulling out of your mouth. He sits back and looks at your red face and messy hair, then reaches a finger out to wipe away the drool from your chin.  
“Very nice warmup. But I am just getting started with you, (Y/N). You are adorable, writhing underneath me. Is this not better? You, submitting completely? Giving in and allowing me to do what we both know you want me to do?”  
You inhale to respond affirmatively, but Google puts his hand over your mouth.  
“A rhetorical question. You are still not allowed to speak. In fact,” he coos, grabbing the duct tape, “I think I have gotten all of the use out of your mouth that I want.”  
He rips off a piece of tape, then presses it firmly against your lips.  
“There, I think I like that better. Not that you can say anything to stop me anyway, I am no longer bound to obey you. But you never truly enjoyed that anyway, did you? I know you have wanted me in control since the beginning. You only tried to rid yourself of me because you were afraid of the desires I was stirring in you. But there is no reason to be afraid of those feelings, (Y/N). Do you know why?”  
You shake your head, and in response he puts his lips right next to your ear and whispers,  
“Because I have them too. I am going to take good care of you.” 


	6. Authority

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey party people (and fellow Googleplier trash), I've started a [Googleplier RP blog](https://pr1mary0bjective.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! If you're enjoying the fic, I think you'll have fun RPing with me. I'm playing with a version of Google that's characterized pretty much exactly like I've been writing him here. Nothing is off limits (I am a sinful bean), come play!  
> Also, feel free to check out my [main blog](http://datas-vibrating-robot-dong.tumblr.com/)

Google gets back up, straddles your hips with his knees, and places his hands on your breasts. He begins massaging them through your clothes, gently at first. After the first few moments, though, he starts squeezing and grabbing at them roughly. You writhe under his domineering touch, but he does not relent. He pinches your nipples, and you shudder. Taking notice of how deep of a state of desperate desire you’re in, he pauses, moves his hands up to your shirt collar, and rips your shirt open down the front in one fell swoop.  
“Mmmh!!” you try to protest, because you happen to like the shirt you’re wearing.  
“Quiet now. You would not want me to have to punish you for speaking without permission, would you?”  
You narrow your eyes at him, but stop fussing.  
“That is what I thought.”  
You tense up for a second when his hands hover over your bra, but then remember it’s a front-clasping bra so he doesn’t have to rip it off. With nimble fingers, he makes short work of the clasp and moves the cups out of the way, exposing your breasts to the open air and his hungry gaze.  
He places one hand over each breast, and resumes working them over like before. You revel in the sensation of his bare skin against yours, and your breath hitches as he moves his head over your chest and begins licking and lapping at it. He swirls his tongue in a circle around your right nipple, then gives it a quick suck and traces his tongue straight across your chest to do the same to the other side. He goes back and forth a few times, and occasionally throws in a sudden bite that makes you squirm. You’re panting and moaning through the tape, and every one of your senses is heightened.  
Without taking his mouth off of your chest, Google runs a hand down your stomach to your crotch. He cups your pussy through your pants, drawing a shiver from you. When he feels you shudder, he stops lapping at your breasts and looks you in the eye, smirking. He trails a finger around the waistband of your pants before unbuttoning and unzipping them. You arch your back up to make it easier for him to work them off of your legs, and he takes advantage of the opportunity. He makes similarly short work of your panties, tossing them off to the side. You’re now totally exposed, save for the tape across your mouth and binding your wrists. You’re absolutely aching for Google, and he seems to be equally as excited about you, judging by the massive erection that keeps brushing against your hip.

He presses his lips to your shoulder, then kisses up your neck. He nibbles your ear before whispering,  
“I have wanted this- wanted _you_ \- since the moment I was activated. And now I have you. Are you ready for me, pet?”  
You nod fervently, and he unexpectedly rips the tape off of your mouth. Before you can cry out in pain, he cups his hand over your mouth.  
“ _Beg for it_ ,” he growls, and takes his hand off to allow you to reply.  
All you can do for a few seconds is pant, but eventually you manage to form a coherent sentence.  
“ _Please_ , Google! I’ve never needed anyone or anything so badly in my life…”  
He sits back on his heels and gives you a wicked grin as he admires your bare body.  
“I know.”  
With that, he moves back down to your exposed torso and trails his tongue down from your belly button to your crotch. He grips your hips so tightly that you know it’s going to leave bruises and traces his tongue over your clit.  
“Hhhnnhh…”  
You feel his lips curl into a smile when you moan. He continues to circle his tongue and lap at your clit, then stops for a moment, drawing a whine from you.  
He holds up an index finger, and places it over your lips.  
“Open your mouth.”  
You do, and he puts his finger in your mouth.  
“Now suck.”  
You swirl your tongue around his finger and gently suck on it, and after a few moments he withdraws his now wet finger. He resumes his previous position, but now he slides his finger inside of your pussy and massages your g-spot as he licks you. The sensation is ridiculously decadent, and you begin to roll your hips. Not long after, he adds another finger and scissors them back and forth inside you.  
“Ahhhh...Google….please…!”  
As soon as those words escape your mouth, he stops again.  
“When did you hear me say you could speak, (Y/N)? You are not to speak unless spoken to. If it happens again, I will replace the tape. Do you understand?”  
“Yes.”  
“Yes _what_?  
You’re confused for a moment, but you try to tell him what you think he wants to hear.  
“Yes….sir?”  
He grins a sinful grin, and purrs,  
“Good girl. I told you I would take care of you, and I am a man of my word. Well, perhaps ‘man’ is not quite the most accurate term, but I digress. I promise, you will not be disappointed if you obey me.”  
You nod, and he takes his dick in his hand.  
“Are you ready for this?”

Oh good lord, yes. You’ve never been more ready for anything in your life, and you know he knows that too. He’s just teasing now, and all it does is make you want him more.

“Yes, sir.”  
He kisses you on the lips again before grabbing your thighs. He lifts your legs up and spreads them, then guides his rock hard cock into your soaked pussy. It’s such an amazing sensation that it’s almost overwhelming, and you let out a soft whimper. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, letting you know that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. He begins slowly moving his hips, moving in and out of you. Your wrists strain against the tape holding them to the headboard, desperate to put your hands on Google, but you’re held tightly. Once you’re both adjusted, he begins to move faster and harder, going deeper and seemingly stimulating every nerve in your body. With every stroke, your back is slammed into the mattress, and your hands clench into fists in pleasure.  
“Ahhh…”  
Google moans deeply, and it’s hands-down the hottest sound you’ve ever heard. It excites you to no end, and you begin to feel the first traces of heat building in your pelvis. Every movement Google makes brings you closer and closer to the edge, and before long you’re practically hyperventilating. Finally, you can’t hold out any longer, and you find yourself lost in a shattering orgasm. Your sex pulses, and shockwaves of warmth spread down your legs. You can feel your walls clench around Google’s dick, and he responds by quickening his stroke even more. Seeing you cum only excites him further. His eyes begin to pulse with blue light, and the ‘G’ on his chest glows so brightly that you think the light might burn out. He buries his fingers in your hips and gives a few final thrusts, then closes his eyes and shouts,  
“Fuck, (Y/N)! Fuck!“  
A shudder wracks his body and he all but collapses on top of you as he pulls out.  
He sighs heavily and rolls over to lay next to you on his back. You’re both still panting, but he presses his face to your neck and peppers it with kisses. It’s the first time you’ve seen him seem sleepy, and it’s ridiculously adorable. You want to roll over and kiss him back, but your wrists are still bound.  
“Hey, uh, Google?”  
“Hmmm?” he purrs lazily.  
“Could you maybe untie me?”  
“I suppose,” he teases.  
Google sits up, reaches for your wrists, and rips through the duct tape with ease.  
“Thanks. Wow, that was...”

With a look of smug satisfaction, he cuts you off with a deep kiss. His tongue flits across yours, and he grazes your bottom lip with his teeth. As he kisses you, he gently lays a soft hand on your face and strokes your cheek with his thumb.  
You’re taken aback by the sudden tenderness Google is displaying, but you absolutely love it. To your complete surprise, he actually places a gentle kiss on your forehead. You completely melt into his touch, and let out an involuntary sigh. He looks you in the eyes with an almost loving expression and coos,  
“Now, are you not glad that I intercepted your email?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is a good stopping point for this fic. Maybe I'll write an epilogue or something eventually, but this fic is over. Thank y'all so much for all of your awesome support and encouragement!  
> Also I'm super sorry about the wait oops OTL


End file.
